


This Is Us Colliding

by holcene



Category: Atypical (TV 2017)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-25
Updated: 2018-09-25
Packaged: 2019-07-17 09:36:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16092956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/holcene/pseuds/holcene
Summary: The thing about Izzie, and by extension, Clayton Prep, is that Casey has always sort of been halfway in love with them from the very beginning.orthe one where they hold hands too much and talk too little





	This Is Us Colliding

**Author's Note:**

> i love writing for ships that haven't even kissed yet

The thing about Izzie, and by extension, Clayton Prep, is that Casey has always sort of been halfway in love with them from the very beginning. 

Which is more than a little stupid, seeing how Izzie is a massive bitch and Clayton Prep is full of self-entitled dicks. But then Izzie falls over and she blames Casey and Coach forces them in a room together and they get drunk and Izzie turns out to be more than what Casey originally thought, and it’s all just more than a little fucked up in the end anyway. 

Then there’s Clayton Prep with its big stone walls and stupidly large track field and shitty cafeteria with its shitty flex points and even shittier pizza. But it’s also kind of nice to finally be on a track team that pushes her to be even better. To put on a uniform that ironically makes her feel unique. To be something more than just Sam’s sister. 

And it’s more than kind of nice to look at Izzie and feel like she’s finally met someone who gets it. To talk to her and realize she’s never had a connection with someone like this before (not even with Evan). To hold her hand and feel so _right_. 

It’s stupid. So stupid. 

Izzie squeezes her hand and Casey looks over at her. She’s staring back at Casey, eyes understanding in a way that makes Casey’s heart tighten in guilt. 

“You should call Evan back,” Izzie says, glancing down at where Casey’s phone lay forgotten in her lap. 

Casey stares at her for long moment, long enough to see all the different warring emotions in Izzie’s eyes, long enough to find her own reflection there. It startles something within her, something she momentarily forgot. 

Casey is _not_ her mother.

It snaps her to attention and she quickly pulls her hand away, running it quickly through her hair while she lets out an awkward laugh. 

“Right, yeah. I’ll just—I’ll just be a sec.” 

Izzie nods, smile small, and turns away as Casey brings her phone to her ear. 

“Evan, hey! Sorry, I just—I just got caught up for a bit. What’s up?” 

She makes plans to go see Evan after dropping Izzie off, ignoring the way Izzie won’t meet her eyes and why the crushing feeling in her heart feels less like guilt and more like disappointment. 

\--

Sam finds her in her room on a Tuesday afternoon. Casey is on her bed, staring listlessly at the ceiling when Sam barges in without any preamble. 

“I need new pencils,” he tells her urgently. 

She lazily rolls her eyes towards him. 

“Why?”

He sighs, apparently displeased at needing to explain. “I’ll be taking art classes at Denton and according to my research the best pencils for sketching are the Palomino Blackwing Pencils. They’re only available in select stores and I would prefer to go see them myself before purchasing because online reviews are greatly skewed. Also, if I buy them online there’s no guarantee that they’ll arrive on time, or that they’ll be in perfect condition. Sometimes shipping companies will—Ow!” 

Sam glares at her, kicking uselessly at the pillow she had just thrown at him. Casey simply smirks, leaning back on her elbows. 

“Ask mom to take you.”

“Mom is at support group.”

Casey sighs. “Ask dad.”

“Dad isn’t home.”

That has her arching a brow. Her dad has been gone more and more recently. From what Casey can tell, her parents haven’t been fighting any more than usual. In fact, it almost seemed like they were getting along the way they used to. Until Sam’s graduation anyway. Interesting. 

“Classes don’t start until Fall, you loser. It’s not even June, you can get them later,” Casey says, rolling her eyes. Sam huffs.

“I need them now so that I can have the optimal amount of time to practice with them. What if I don’t like them? Or what if they’re not the best pencils for sketching? Then I’ll have to do more research and find new pencils and who knows how long that will take. No, no. I can’t risk it. We have to go now.” 

Realizing Sam isn’t going to let this go, Casey groans. “Ugh, fine. Just shut up about pencils already, I’ll take you.”

“Yes! Thank you.” And then Sam is rushing out of the room and down the stairs, predictably so that he can be at the car by the time she gets down there. 

As she’s shoving her shoes on, Casey’s phone lights up with an incoming call. She glances at it, not even aware that she’s hoping for a certain person’s name to be flashing until she sees _Evan Tuba_ on the screen and feels a wave of a disappointment. 

Hand hovering over her phone, she hesitates for a second before pushing the reject call button. 

She’ll call him back later. 

\--

Izzie texts her while Casey is casually looking through an aisle of different paints. A few feet away, Sam is grilling a helpless store worker about lead lengths or whatever. Casey zones them out, an unbidden grin finding its way to her face when she sees who messaged her. 

_What’s up, Newton?_

_Just staring at a bunch of paint. You?_ She sends back and immediately three dots appear at the bottom of her screen. 

_Paint???_

_Sam._ She offers as way of explanation. 

_Makes sense_ , Izzie answers and then immediately asks, _Doing anything later?_

Casey thinks about the biology final she should be studying for and the pre-calc homework she’s barely even touched. Biting her lip she responds with, _killing myself with homework probably. You wouldn’t happen to know anyone who’s good at bio would you?_

The response makes her grin. 

_Lucky for you, I’m actually a biology genius. See you at 7?_

Casey texts back an affirmative, suddenly anxious to get home and open her biology textbook, when another incoming text has her staring down at her phone. 

When she swipes away the notification for a new message from _Evan Tuba_ , Casey tells herself it’s because she can hear Sam starting to get riled up with the store worker and not because she doesn’t want to face Evan just yet. 

\--

When Izzie arrives, the first thirty minutes are spent with Sam explaining the benefits of the new pencils he just bought. The ten minutes after that are spent on a long monologue about Edison’s special diet. He could go on a lot longer, but Casey intervenes. She’d already let them talk longer than she usually would, and it’s definitely not because the sight of Izzie listening so attentively and genuinely to Sam’s long winded explanations made her heart feel inexplicably warm. No it’s really just because she knows if she didn’t let Sam tell Izzie now, then she’d probably have to suffer through him telling her later anyway. 

Izzie takes it all in stride, waving Sam off with a nod and a cheery goodbye when he promises to let her see Edison later. 

“You’re good with him,” Casey points out nonchalantly, pulling her textbooks out of her bag and onto her bed. 

Izzie shrugs, copying her movements. “He’s cool, easy to talk to.”

Casey raises a brow as Izzie looks back at her curiously. “Yeah, you’re definitely, like, the only person who’s ever said that.”

Izzie shoves at her, chuckling amusedly. “Whatever, Newton. You’re just jealous because he’s cooler than you.”

Casey scoffs, shoving back at her. “As if.”

“Sorry, my word is law,” Izzie says, smirking. 

There’s something in her smirk that has heat flushing dangerously to Casey’s cheeks. In an effort to distract Izzie before she can notice, Casey grabs her pillow and swats at Izzie. 

Izzie’s jaw drops in surprise before she grabs a pillow for herself and swings it back at Casey. It’s a surprisingly hard hit and it has Casey falling backwards. In retaliation, she launches her pillow back towards Izzie who then jumps onto the bed to get revenge. Casey would deny it vehemently later, but what can only be described as squeals of laughter erupt from her mouth when the onslaught continues. 

“Okay, okay! I give up!” Casey manages between fits of laughter. 

The pillow attack finally stops and Casey doesn’t know how, but somehow Izzie’s ended up leaning over her. Both their chests are heaving from the sudden exertion, cheeks flushed from laughter and maybe something else. Wisps of Izzie’s hair are dangling down and tickling Casey’s neck, and suddenly, Casey is aware of the precarious position they have found themselves in. 

She coughs nervously, sitting up quickly so that Izzie has to lean back to avoid bumping heads. 

“So, biology,” Casey announces, grabbing her textbook from where it’s perched dangerously close to the edge of the bed. 

She flips through it mindlessly, feeling Izzie distance herself from Casey so that she can sit at a more appropriate spot next to her.

“Right, biology,” Izzie echoes. 

Casey chances a glance at her to find Izzie staring back. Izzie’s biting her lip, her hand between them as she leans her weight onto it. Casey peers down at it, remembering the feeling of Izzie’s palm against her own and how good it felt. Without second guessing, she places her hand over Izzie’s, their fingers tangling together dangerously. 

“So, uh, the Krebs Cycle,” Izzie says, turning to the book in her lap. 

Casey follows after her, deciding not to tell Izzie that she already went over this with Sam during the weekend. It allows her mind to drift to the soft way Izzie is mindlessly running her thumb back and forth over the skin of Casey’s hand and how Casey should reasonably be stopping this because this isn’t what friends do. 

And yet. 

Nothing has ever felt more right. 

On her desk, Casey’s phone chimes with a new message. 

She doesn’t bother with checking.

\--

At school, Case feels like a different person. 

Maybe it’s the uniform, or maybe it’s the fact that she’s three towns away from the place she grew up in. Either way, when Casey arrives at school it’s like a switch gets flipped and she’s no longer Casey Gardner, the girl with a brother who has autism, but ‘Newton’ rising track star and Izzie’s best friend. 

“You guys ready for finals in two weeks?” one of the girls on the team asks. 

They’re in the locker room, gearing up for their final practice of the season before summer workouts in July, and Casey is feeling nostalgic over the fact that her first semester at Clayton Prep is already drawing to a close. 

“Don’t even talk to me about finals,” Izzie says. “I don’t want to think about them for at least another week.”

“Here, here,” Casey agrees and Izzie smiles at her. Casey smiles back, forgetting for a moment that it isn’t just the two of them alone in the locker room. 

“Yeah, well, Calc is kicking my ass so I _have_ to be thinking about it now,” another girl groans, effectively reminding Casey of where they are. 

She shakes her head, returning to the task of lacing up her shoes and notices Izzie do the same. The thought of Izzie being as affected by all this as Casey has Casey smirking quietly to herself. Izzie must notice though because when they’re both finished getting ready, she bumps Casey’s shoulder with her own. 

“Don’t look so smug, Newton,” she mutters amusedly. 

Casey shrugs, bouncing on the tips of her feet, body thrumming with energy at the promise of a few laps around the track and Izzie’s playful grin. 

“No idea what you’re talking about,” Casey answers, walking backwards out onto the field, smiling at Izzie’s responding roll of her eyes. 

Practice is shorter than Casey would like, Coach sending them back to the locker rooms after only an hour with a short speech about the good season they had and a thanks to the team for being so great. Casey finds herself lingering on the center of the field after everyone has left, hands on her hips as she takes in her surroundings. She’ll be back here soon, but for a moment she lets it all sink in. Her transfer here, her rough start, finding Izzie, losing Izzie, the shittiness of that long month without her, getting her back again, Evan. 

It’s enough to have her sucking in a heavy breath, the stone walls of the school towering over her in this moment of sudden realization. 

“Practice is over, Newton.” 

Izzie is standing behind her, arms crossed and head tilted in question. Still in her practice uniform with the backdrop of the school behind her, Izzie is a reminder of all the things Casey loves about this place. 

_That_ realization has Casey shaking herself out of her stupor, jogging towards Izzie quickly. 

“Yeah, yeah. Just...taking it all in.” 

The soft smile Izzie gives her makes Casey’s head spin even more so Casey elects to ignore her and stare straight ahead. 

“It can be a lot,” Izzie tells her. Casey hums noncommittally. “You had a pretty good season with us. We wouldn’t have made nationals without you.”

Nationals feels like a lifetime ago, even though it was only a few weekends prior. They’d gotten second and Casey only had a few moments to be disappointed before Izzie swooped in with a hug and soft words of encouragement. After that and the events of her birthday, it was difficult for Casey to think of anything other than the way Izzie still smelled so good even while covered in sweat. Izzie’s been taking up the majority of her thoughts lately and that in itself should have been concerning, but the truth is that Izzie makes her run harder and faster than she ever has before and it’s hard to find the problem in that. The truth in that, however, only adds to Casey’s anxiety over this growing Izzie dilemma.

“Maybe we’ll actually win next time,” Casey answers robotically, still refusing to look at Izzie.

Casey’s only warning is an annoyed huff before she feels a tug on her hand, keeping her from moving forward. She gazes back at Izzie curiously, proud of herself for only marginally noticing the feeling of her hand clutched in Izzie’s. 

“What?” Casey asks. 

Izzie squeezes her palm, taking a step closer. 

“Are you okay?”

Casey lifts her shoulder up in a slight shrug. “Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

Izzie’s brow furrows, something akin to determination lighting up in her eyes before suddenly she’s stepping further into Casey’s space. Izzie pulls on their joined hands as she lifts her other to wrap around Casey’s body. It’s an awkward hold for a hug, but Casey doesn’t mind, focusing instead on the smell of Izzie’s perfume invading her senses. 

She breathes in deeply, letting her body relax into Izzie’s, and feels Izzie’s body vibrating with a small laugh in response. Beneath them, Izzie squeezes Casey’s palm. 

“Smelling me now, Newton?”

Casey hides her smile in Izzie’s shoulder. “You smell good.”

“Yeah, sure,” Izzie laughs, pulling away slightly. She tugs on Casey’s hand until Casey lifts her head.

When Izzie leans her forehead against Casey’s, Casey feels her heart stutter in her chest. 

“What’s this for?” Casey asks, just to distract herself from Izzie’s face being so close to hers. “What promise are we making now?” 

“No promise this time,” Izzie whispers. “You just looked like you needed it.”

Their hands are still linked together, faces dangerously close, and it’s the most intimate position Casey has ever found herself in and she’s had sex with another human being. She heaves in a deep breath, committing this moment to memory because she knows she can’t let this happen again. 

She is _not_ her mother. 

Stepping away, Casey tucks a stray strand of hair behind her ear. 

“You’re right, I did need that.” Casey coughs, electing to ignore the soft look in Izzie’s eyes. “Thanks.” 

Izzie smiles, bumping Casey’s shoulder as she saunters passed her. “Don’t mention it, Newton.”

Casey watches her go for a moment, heart thumping wildly as if trying to push itself out of her chest and chase after Izzie itself. She clenches her fists tightly.

Casey is _not_ her mother.

 

\--

Ironically enough, it’s the combination of Sam and her mom who pull her head out of her ass.

It’s Friday afternoon and Casey’s been sitting on the steps of her front porch ever since she got home from school. The sun is beginning its descent down the sky when Sam finds her there, coming home after a full shift at Techtropolis. 

“What are you doing?” he asks her confusedly.

“Nothing,” she grumbles, cheeks resting in her palms. 

“You’re just sitting here,” he points out, seemingly still stuck on the fact that she’s on the front porch and not on the couch like she usually would be on a Friday afternoon. 

“Great observation skills, Sam.”

“Thank you,” he says seriously. “But why are you sitting here?” 

Casey groans. “Because I feel like it, okay? I’ve got a lot on my mind.”

Sam regards her curiously before responding, “Well, in that case, Julia used to tell me that if I have something on my mind I should let it out.”

“Are you saying you want to listen to me talk about my problems?” Casey deadpans. 

Sam scoffs, face scrunching in disgust as he moves to walk passed her. “No, of course not.” He disappears into the house for a second before immediately reappearing back onto the porch. “Wait, was that rude? Was I supposed to say yes?”

Casey sighs, already used to having to explain normal social cues to Sam by now. “Typically if you ask someone about their problems, it implies you want to listen to them too.”

Sam considers this for a moment and then, “Oh. I guess that makes sense, but I don’t want to listen to your problems. Do I have to?”

“No you don’t,” Casey chuckles, strangely endeared by Sam’s blunt honesty. The world would surely be an easier place to live in if more people just said what they wanted to. 

Sam hums thoughtfully. “You should tell Evan about your problems. He’s your boyfriend so that’s what you’re supposed to do. When we were boyfriend and girlfriend, Paige used to always tell me about her problems. I thought it was annoying, but she said that’s what couples do so I had to listen. I still think it’s stupid, but she said that was a rule and I always follow rules.”

Sam doesn’t pick up on the way Casey’s face twists at the mention of Evan’s name. He’s still ranting on about the rules of being a couple that Paige told him, his matter of fact tone beginning to grate on Casey’s nerves. She just wants to be alone. 

“I can’t tell Evan because he’s part of the problem,” Casey interrupts, tone more curt than she intended—not that Sam picks up on it anyway. 

“Oh,” Sam says, before continuing on as if the answer is obvious, “Well, if he’s the problem you should probably break up with him then.”

Casey’s mouth opens and closes, at a loss for words at this simple solution. “I—I can’t. I love him.”

Sam scrunches his brows. “But if you love him then why is he the problem? That makes no sense at all. The people you love aren’t supposed to be problems.”

“He’s not _the_ problem,” Casey argues, “He’s just...part of it. I’m also part of it.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Sam decides.

“Yeah, well you don’t make any sense, weirdo,” Casey fires back. 

“That’s stupid.” 

“You’re stupid!”

“No, you are!”

“Kids! What is going on here?” their mom interrupts. She’s standing in the doorway, an apron tied around her waist and a dish towel in her hands. 

Before Casey can even begin to explain, Sam spits out, “Casey was sitting on the front porch when I got home even though Friday afternoon is always when she sits on the couch to watch all her television shows, and then I asked her why and she said she had problems so I told her tell Evan about her problems because Paige told me that’s what couples do, but then she said that she can’t because Evan is part of the problem, so I said she should break up with him but she said she can’t because she loves him, so I said that didn’t make any sense then she called me stupid so I—”

“Okay, okay,” their mom interrupts. She eyes Casey who’s turned her head away, cheeks flushed and eyes burning at Sam’s open explanation. “Sam, honey, why don’t you go inside and change out of your work clothes for dinner?”

“But I can eat in my work clothes,” Sam argues, still mostly defiant in his effort to be more independent. 

“I know, honey, but I would like to speak to your sister alone,” their mom tries honestly. 

Sam considers this for a second before shrugging, “okay,” and slinks inside, footsteps heavy against the wood floor. 

“I don’t want to talk about this with you,” Casey says once Sam is gone and her mom moves to sit next to her.

Ignoring her, as she usually does, her mom takes a seat beside her on the porch steps. “I know, but I just wanted to tell you something.” Casey doesn’t acknowledge her which her mom takes as a sign to continue. “Whatever’s going on with you, however you may or may not be feeling towards Evan, he deserves to know about it.”

Angry now at having two people sticking their nose where it doesn’t belong, Casey scoffs. “Like dad did?”

Her mom is silent and there’s the smallest hint of guilt creeping its way up Casey’s mouth and out in the form of a half-assed apology, when her mom speaks again. 

“You’re right, your dad did deserve to know what I was feeling,” she admits softly, “and if I had told him, maybe I wouldn’t have done what I did. And that’s something I’m going to regret for the rest of my life.”

Casey swallows, the words striking a chord with her in a way she doesn’t want to admit. She focuses instead on the car driving slowly passed the house, following it with her eyes as it disappears down the street. She resists the urge to run after it. 

Her mom pats Casey’s shoulder as she stands up, lingering there for a moment longer. 

“Talk to Evan,” her mom says. “It might make you feel better.”

When it’s clear Casey isn’t going to offer a response, her mom returns inside and Casey can hear the telltale signs of her entering into a discussion with Sam over one thing or another. 

In her pocket, her phone rings. 

She answers.

\--

Casey doesn’t want to admit it, but talking to Evan does make her feel better. Evan, to his credit, takes it all in patiently as Casey slowly breaks his heart with every word. 

“I get it,” Evan says, hands pushed deep into the pocket of his jeans. “I mean, I’m kinda pissed you’ve been ignoring me instead of talking to me about it, but I get it.” 

“I’m really sorry,” Casey offers weakly. 

They’re leaning against the hood of his car in the parking lot of Casey’s favorite park. There’s the vague sounds of some children playing in the playground not too far away, but for the most part they’re pretty much alone. Casey hasn’t decided yet if she prefers that over the sounds of her mom bustling in the kitchen or Sam pacing back and forth in his room. For someone who used to always crave the sound of silence, she finds it unnerving now. 

“No, no it’s okay. I mean, sometimes things just aren’t meant to be, right?” Evan tries, chuckling humorlessly. Casey can only smile bitterly. 

“Yeah, right.” 

“I just…” Evan sighs, rubbing the back of his neck as he looks away from her. “I didn’t see it coming, you know? And that...that kind of sucks.”

“Evan…” Casey hurt him. She knows she did and she hates it because that was what she wanted to avoid, but her mom was right. She needed to talk to him, and she should have done it sooner. Maybe if she had, Evan wouldn’t be feeling so blindsided right now. 

But what could she have even said? Hey, sorry to break it to you, but I think we need to break up because I can’t stop thinking about almost kissing my best friend on my birthday. Oh, but don’t worry, there’s nothing you could have done to stop this anyway. Tough luck, hope you don’t hate me. 

Stupid. So stupid. 

“I still love you,” Casey tells him and she sees his shoulders tense with the weight of her words, “I’m just going through some stuff, you know? With Sam graduating and my parents together but not and everything with Clayton and Izzie—” she stops short, hoping Evan doesn’t catch the way she falters after Izzie’s name, scared that Evan might be able to tell that all of this had more to do with Izzie than anything else on that list. But Evan doesn’t notice, just waits patiently for her to continue. “I just...need some time. To sort everything out.”

“And you can’t do that with me,” Evan determines. He doesn’t say it with any malice, just reluctant acceptance. 

Casey nods even though Evan can’t see it. “Not this time.” 

“Okay, I get it,” Evan repeats, pushing himself off the car. When he looks at her his eyes are kind and his smile understanding and Casey feels a piece of her heart break for him. In a moment of honesty, Evans says, “I might need some time before we can be friends again, if that’s cool.”

Caught off guard at how well he seems to be taking this, Casey blinks, then nods. “Yeah, yeah, no. Totally. That’s—that’s totally fine. I understand.”

“Cool.”

“Cool.”

Their eyes meet and Casey finds herself wondering again if she’s making the right choice. Evan has always been good to her, been good for her, and maybe this whole thing with Izzie is just Casey feeling momentarily confused. She’s never had a friend like Izzie before, someone so different yet so similar. Maybe she’s making a mistake.

But then she feels her phone vibrate in her pocket and her heartrate quickens at the thought that maybe it’s Izzie and Casey knows. 

She won’t make the same mistake her mom did. 

She is _not_ her mother. 

\--

Whether it be out of confusion or guilt, Casey finds herself inadvertently avoiding Izzie as much as she can. It’s fairly easy to blow her off with finals on the horizon and Casey’s scholarship in jeopardy, but eventually Izzie catches on and she’s always been a force to be reckoned with when Casey is concerned. 

The morning of the first day of finals week, Izzie corners Casey at her locker.

“I haven’t seen you much lately,” she says, leaning against the locker next to Casey’s, tone short and expression serious. 

“Yeah, uh, sorry about that,” Casey apologizes, shutting her locker with a slam. She adjusts her backpack on her shoulder, tucks her hair behind her ear while Izzie looks on unimpressed. “I was busy studying, you know. Biology and all that.”

“Sure.” 

There’s still a few minutes left before the first warning bell so Casey leans back against her own locker, noticing with newfound attention that Izzie has somehow found a way to make their uniforms look good. That has her swallowing audibly, and at Izzie’s intrigued expression, Casey barrels on to safer topics. 

“So, how have you been? What’s been going on?”

Izzie shrugs, deciding to let Casey off the hook for now. “Same old, same old. My mom’s pathetic excuse of a boyfriend has been more annoying than usual so I try to avoid home as much as possible. I convinced my grandma to let my siblings stay with her for a while so at least they’re taken care of.”

Casey frowns, realizing that in her own selfish desire to avoid her problems that meant she left Izzie to deal with hers all alone with the added worry of probably wondering why her best friend was ignoring her and if she’d done something wrong on top of it all. 

“That sucks, dude. I’m sorry.”

“It is what it is,” Izzie waves off. “But what about you? What’s been going on with you?” she raises a brow conspiratorially. “Any more developments with Evan?”

It’s a question asked more out of politeness than anything. Casey can tell because even though nothing in her tone gives anything away, her expression is more muted than normal. Still, the question has Casey tongue tied, her palms suddenly sweaty with nerves. No one should feel this anxious to tell their friend they’re no longer dating their boyfriend. 

Not unless they wished they were dating their friend instead. 

“Oh, uh, Evan and I kind of...broke up,” Casey admits, playing with the hem of her sweater to seem nonchalant. 

“Oh my god, Casey.” The sound of her name coming out of Izzie’s mouth has her looking up, Izzie gazing back at her with a sympathetic expression. “Is that why you went all hermit on me this last week? Dude, I’m so sorry, if I had known I wouldn’t have given you shit just now.”

Casey shrugs, smiling bitterly. “It is what it is.”

The warning bell rings and the hallway begins to clear. Fortunately, Casey’s first final is only English and she’s always excelled in that class so she isn’t too worried. Moving to head to her class, a hand grabbing hers stops her in her tracks.

“Hey,” Izzie locks their hands together. The lights from the hallway are reflecting in her eyes and her lips are shining with some kind of gloss and she looks so, so pretty. Casey swallows. 

“Yeah?” she manages to get out, voice slightly shaky from the turn in her thoughts.

Izzie squeezes her palm reassuringly. “I’m here for you.”

Casey nods, noticing with fascination the way Izzie seems to follow the movement with her eyes. 

“I know,” she says, squeezing back. 

The second bell rings, officially marking Casey and Izzie as late for their first period finals, but Casey doesn’t care. Nothing else matters other than feel of Izzie’s palm pressed against hers and the rhythmic beat of Casey’s heart that tells her this is more than right.

She wonders idly then, how long is too long post breakup before it’s acceptable to kiss your best friend. 

\--

When finals week ends and Casey’s first official semester at Clayton Prep comes to a close, she finds herself reminiscing about the last few months. For such a short amount of time, Casey feels like she’s come out of it an entirely new person. Which is weird, because as Sam might say, you can’t be a new person if you’ve been the same person since you were born. 

Evan hasn’t spoken to her since they broke up and she hasn’t seen her dad in a while and Casey wonders if her mom was wrong because in the end there was still the same outcome. Someone she loved ended up leaving and it was all her fault. 

“You’re sitting here again,” Sam observes, home from his Friday shift at Techtropolis. 

“Yes,” Casey answers, cheeks resting in the palm of her hands.

From above her, Sam eyes her warily. “Is this your new Friday routine? Because you didn’t do this last friday, but you did do it the Friday before. Is this an every other Friday thing?”

“Sure, Sam,” Casey concedes, “It’s an every other Friday thing.” 

“Okay,” Sam nods. “That’s good to know.”

He steps around her to go inside before stopping abruptly. Casey turns around to look at him, curious as to what has him pausing. 

“You broke up with Evan,” Sam states, brows furrowed. 

“Yes?” She arches a brow, curious as to where this is going. She knows Sam liked Evan, but she never thought of them as particularly close. Is Sam upset with her?

Sam tilts his head. “Is it because you like your friend Izzie?”

The straightforwardness in which he says it is what has Casey fumbling for a response.

“Wha—what? Why would you say that?”

“Because you smile when you look at her, but you also turn away so you don’t stare for too long. When Julia was my therapist she said that when I’m flirting I should smile and look away. That’s what you do when you see Izzie so I assumed you were flirting. Were you not?” 

Casey doesn’t really have anything to say that becauses Sam isn’t exactly wrong. Intentional or not, by that logic Casey has technically been flirting with Izzie. But Casey doesn’t exactly want to acknowledge the implication behind the fact that Sam, of all people, who struggles daily with discerning proper social cues, has picked up on her feelings for Izzie. Maybe even before Casey did. 

Sam truly is one of the smartest people she knows. 

Before she can get a word out, Sam’s gaze flicks behind her. “Oh,” he says, “Izzie is here.”

Whipping her head back, Casey turns around to find Izzie there, hands in the pocket of her school blazer as she smiles warmly at the two of them. 

“I’ll just ask her,” Sam decides. “Izzie, are you and Casey fli—”

“Okay, let’s not,” Casey tells him, grabbing by his arm to haul back up the porch. 

“But I want to know if you broke up with Evan because of Izzie,” Sam complains as Casey forcibly pushes him inside the house. 

“Goodbye, Sam,” Casey calls, shutting the door on him. 

She hears him whine at her to let him out, but she keeps her hold on the door knob firm until she hears his footsteps stomp up the stairs. 

“Well, that was interesting,” Casey hears from behind her. 

Casey breathes deeply, counts to five in her head as she rests her forehead against the cool wood of the front door before turning around as casually as possible.

“Yeah, uh, sorry about that,” Casey says, an over-enthusiastic smile on her face. She makes a vague gesture in the direction of the house. “You know how he is.”

“Yeah, I do,” Izzie laughs. She’s made it up the driveway now, leaning on the railing of the porch stairs. 

Casey crosses her arms, just to have something to do with her hands. “So what brings you here?”

“Oh, I was just in the neighborhood, thought I’d stop by, see how you’re doing without finals looming over you.”

Izzie toes at the stairs. She’s still in her uniform and Casey wonders if Izzie has just been driving mindlessly around since school ended. If subconsciously she’d chosen Casey as her destination and ended up here without realizing. 

“You were just in the neighborhood?” Casey asks, smirking and feeling strangely confident at Izzie’s uncharacteristic nervousness. “Three towns away from your own?”

Izzie shrugs, biting at her lip when she meets Casey’s eyes. “Yeah, something like that.” She looks down again, unsure once more. “What Sam was saying, about you breaking up with Evan because of me. Was that true?” 

Casey’s fingers dig into her arms. Her anxiety has spiked once again, and she’s not sure how to respond. If there even is a right or wrong answer in this situation. There’s no point in lying, really. Izzie has to have known that everything changed that night of Casey’s birthday—that things were already changing long before that. 

“Kind of,” Casey settles on. She hears Izzie breathe in deeply. 

“Casey, I—”

“No,” Casey interrupts. “It’s not your fault, or whatever it is you were about to apologize for. Things with Evan just...it just wasn’t right anymore, you know?”

A heavy silence hangs over them. Casey’s had her eyes on the wood of the porch railing this whole time and when she looks up, Izzie is smiling up at her warmly. 

“I wasn’t going to apologize,” Izzie says.

Casey blinks. “Oh. Well....okay then.”

It’s an outside force that pulls Casey towards Izzie. She’s always been taller than Izzie, but with Izzie on the bottom step and Casey at the top of the porch, Casey towers over her. Izzie peers up at her from beneath her lashes and Casey feels all words die in her throat. Out of instinct, she reaches for Izzie’s hand who gives it to her willingly. 

“I like holding your hand,” Izzie tells her quietly, moving up onto the next step. This angle forces them closer and Casey’s breath stutters. 

“I’m pretty good at hand-holding,” Casey responds, chuckling slightly when Izzie rolls her eyes. The laugh dies quickly, though, when Izzie moves up the last step and ends up toe-to-toe with Casey. 

“You’re supposed to say you like holding my hand too,” Izzie says, almost a whisper in the small space left between them. 

“Oh yeah? Is that a rule?” Casey smirks, tugging Izzie the slightest bit closer. “I should tell Sam; he loves rules.”

“Shut up, Newton,” Izzie mumbles amusedly, tipping her forehead to rest against Casey’s. 

They’re alone. Izzie’s hand is so, so soft in Casey’s and there’s no boyfriend, no annoying mother to stop them from eliminating that last sliver of space separating them. 

In a move shocking them both, it’s Casey who leans down to press her lips to Izzie’s. A rush of heat hits Casey so suddenly she gasps into Izzie’s mouth who only pushes in further, hand clasping Casey’s shirt to steady them. Casey feels the heat of Izzie’s hand against her chest, feels the warmth of Izzie’s body against her own, feels the minute way Izzie’s thumb is drawing circles on the back of her hand. 

Izzie releases her hold on Casey’s shirt, her hand traveling a path up Casey’s neck, brushing Casey’s cheek and curling over Casey’s ear. It ends at the base of her neck, where she tangles it in Casey’s hair, pulling Casey closer so that their bodies are flush together and their lips can move deeper. 

It’s the kind of kiss that stays with you, Casey thinks, as she opens her mouth and welcomes the bite of Izzie’s teeth against her bottom lip. As they pull away to breathe each other in, Izzie trails her hand back on a reverse of its original path, straying down Casey’s neck and following the curve of her shoulder down to her arm, nails scratching lightly along her wrist before meeting Casey’s fingers with her own. 

Both hands tangled together now, Casey nudges Izzie’s forehead with her own, opening her eyes and beaming at the matching grin on Izzie’s face. 

“So,” she starts.

“So,” Izzie echoes. 

They both chuckle nervously, hands swinging at their sides rhythmically. 

“This feels...right,” Casey decides, smile crooked.

“Yeah,” Izzie agrees, “right.”

There are things to talk about, like what this all means for themselves and for each other, what they're going to do going forward, what they're going to tell everyone else. But in this moment, without any pressing concerns to worry about other than the feel of both their hands together, Casey’s convinced nothing else matters.

There’s no Evan, she’s not her mother, and Izzie is so, so beautiful in front of her. 

It’s just right.

**Author's Note:**

> 1) titled after [this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5emojKdW1Hk) song
> 
> 2) written mostly in the early hours of the morning and largely unedited. cheers.
> 
> 3) come yell with me about things at holscene.tumblr.com


End file.
